


Into the Dark

by CaliforniaQueen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cancer, Comfort, F/M, Mentions of Chemotherapy, Not Beta Read, Rey Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26013058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliforniaQueen/pseuds/CaliforniaQueen
Summary: Ben shows Rey that she is not alone.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 26
Kudos: 84





	Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had the Deathcab for Cutie song “I will Follow You Into The Dark” in my head for days. Then I saw a video of a boyfriend doing this and it broke me. I needed to get it out, so I wrote it this morning. Thanks for reading.

She stares at herself in the hazy bathroom mirror, her focus pulled by the flecks of toothpaste and grime spattered along its edges. She grimaces in disgust. 

_I should really clean in here,_ she thinks. 

She hasn’t had the energy to do much lately, let alone clean the bathroom mirror, but she knows she has to try. She has to keep some semblance of normality in her life. The waves of chaos have too much power to submerge her if she lets them. 

She squats to open the cabinet under the sink and retrieve the glass cleaner, noting the handle that wiggles precariously close to falling off as she pulls. She sighs at yet another thing in her life that is just barely hanging on. 

She stands and places the plastic squirt bottle of glass cleaner on the chipped Formica countertop in front of her, flattening her hand out next to it as she supports her tired body against the vanity. 

She’s always tired these days. The doctors and specialists warned her about the chemo. How it killed the good as well as the bad inside of her. It was just a race to see which one it would finish off first. 

She pulls the hand towel off the iron ring screwed into the wall next to her, not bothering to be gentle, not caring about the noise it makes or the chips it takes out of the paint as it smacks up against the wall. It needs a new coat anyway. 

They had plans on remodeling before the diagnosis. They had plans to do so many things before. 

She squirts the cleaner onto the mirror and raises her arm to wipe it as clean as she can before setting the towel down with a heavy breath. A bead of sweat trickles down her neck—a drop of fuel to ignite the constant low-burning fire of anger at herself for not being strong enough for the simplest tasks. 

She bites her lip to keep the tears at bay as she stares at her reflection. It is clearer, cleaner, but not better. It’s clarity only magnifies what she sees in her own eyes—the dread she feels knowing what is coming next. 

She removes the scarf from her head and places it next to the now soiled towel on the counter. The scarf had been a gift from Ben’s grandmother when she got the diagnosis. The reminder of Padmé’s thoughtfulness makes her heart squeeze a bit as she fingers the soft silk. 

She thinks she’s never owned something quite as extravagant. 

It was almost a twisted idea really. Like some warped game show’s parting gift. Sorry, you have cancer, but here’s a Pucci scarf to appease you on your way to your sick bed. 

She snorts at her black thoughts. It’s the dark humor that tickles her the most these days. Ben doesn't appreciate it. He takes everything so seriously. 

She can’t blame him. 

He’s so in tune to her, so sensitive, it’s as if he feels the pain right along with her. But he doesn’t. He tries though. She loves him for that. She hates him for that. It changes from day to day. 

“Are you ready?”

She doesn’t hear him enter the room behind her and she jumps a bit. Startled and a tad self conscious. 

“More fell out today,” she says in response. It’s not an answer to his question, although in a way, it is a definitive yes. 

She’s ready to do this. She’s tired of hovering in the grey area. She’s ready to pick a side. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you sure?” He looks so sorrowfully at her it makes her tired. She can’t carry the weight of both their sorrow. Not right now. 

“I’m ready. Go ahead.”

She watches every move he makes as he plugs the clippers in and clicks them on. She watches as he takes a deep breath and releases it with resignation. He gently eases the clippers towards her head and his eyes find hers in the glass. 

A clear choice. 

She nods at him, her eyes filling with the tears she does not want him to see. He nods in return and lowers the clippers to her head as she closes her eyes. 

It goes more quickly than she thought it would. Her hair was already short before the chemicals began to cast it out of the body they had taken over. She was only holding on to remnants really. She opens her eyes as he makes a final swipe over her head. She can’t hold back anymore and the tears escape, streaming down her face as she stares at the Rey who is not Rey. 

He meets her eyes again and she sees something else. Determination. He makes that face when he has made a decision and won’t turn back. 

In that moment she knows. 

“Ben, dont,” she whispers.

He reaches high above her and she watches as it falls, thick and wavy to the floor. Each swipe of his hand through his hair makes the raven black pool at her feet grow larger. She could drown in it. The sorrow is too much. She sobs in earnest as she watches his hair, the hair she loved to stroke and caress and braid fall like an offering at her feet. What he gives her is more than she could ever ask.

She knows she’s never owned something quite as extravagant. 

When he finishes he rubs his hands over his head, brushing the last remnants to the floor, and turns to her. 

He brushes her tears from her face, pressing kisses on her wet cheeks, her nose, her brow, and the top of her head. Soft kisses as he murmurs words of love that have nothing to do with her hair or her body, but with her soul. 

“Why?” she asks, her voice breaking in a hiccuping sob. “Why would you do that if you didn’t have to?”

He shrugs then, and lifts her carefully in his arms. It is easier to do now. She’s lighter than she used to be. He carries her to their bed and lays her down gently, climbing in next to her and pulling her close. 

“I love you, Rey,” he says simply. “And no matter what, no matter how dark it gets, you need to know that you’re not alone.”

He allows her to cry onto his chest, her soft body shuddering as sobs shake her delicate frame. He holds her close as she settles down and he feels her breathing change as sleep overtakes her. 

He places a soft kiss on her head as she sleeps, whispering words of love and reassurance. 

She thinks she hears him in a dream—she is not sure it is real. But for a brief, shining moment, the fear inside her recedes as he follows her light into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> “If there’s no one beside you when your souls embarks/Then I’ll follow you into the dark.”  
> \- Benjamin Gibbard


End file.
